“Don’t talk,” he said. “Hurts.” His eyes stayed closed.
I made a small noise of frustration. An unsympathetic part of me hissed in my ear, whispering at me to leave him. We didn’t owe each other anything, really. He could take care of himself, even in this situation, even in this strange place. This couldn’t be the first time overextending his gift had left him stranded. But the voice faded away as I looked at him lying there in pain. I couldn’t repay him for helping me escape the city guards by leaving him unconscious in the middle of the woods, and I had to admit it would be easier and safer to stay with him out here than to go back to the city before morning.
My nerves jangled. I took off my cloak and laid it over Hal. The night air nipped at me like a familiar unkindness, the chill spreading gooseflesh up my arms. Prickles of fear followed close behind. At home on my mountain, my power had been the only thing I needed to be afraid of. Now, it seemed I might never know that kind of peace again. If a day lay ahead when I would once again feel as fearless as I had racing through the mountains in summer or as complete as I had lying with my head in Ina’s lap, I couldn’t see it ahead of me.
In these dark and lonely moments, did she think of me as I thought of her? All I wanted was to lie in her arms and for things to be as simple as they once were. I wanted to know who I was and where I belonged. The ache of missing her grew with the force of a landslide. It seemed like both yesterday and a lifetime ago that I’d brushed my fingers over her bare hip and kissed her lips, sweet from brandied fruit.
Hal whimpered, and I shook off the bittersweet memory.
I closed my eyes and tried to listen for danger, wishing more than ever that the lies told to me about my origin had been truth. The gift of Farhearing would have served me well tonight. All I could hear was air whispering though the needles of the pines, and the bare branches of deciduous trees scraping together like skeletal hands that would forever be reaching.
When my ears gave me no information, I stood up and fell into the Sight, looking for other signs of life in the forest. Nothing. Frustrated and cold, I began to pace, hoping it would clear my head and keep me warm.
No more than three steps from Hal, a flame burst to life in front of me.
Fear sank its teeth into my neck. I yelped and scurried backward toward Hal as more torches lit all around. A dozen pairs of human eyes stared at us. The people surrounding us wore well-crafted clothing of leather from head to toe, the threat in their stances unmistakable.
Behind them, creatures emerged from the forest. A red fox peered from behind the legs of a lean boy, and two mice peeked out of the hoods of twin girls who stood side by side. Several dogs joined the circle, larger and more muscled than the ones the people of Amalska had kept to guard their herds. The dogs bared their sharp teeth, their growls a rumble that intensified the fright burning up what little energy I had left. A raccoon chittered from a tree branch overhead, and an owl winged out of the darkness to land on the padded shoulder of the woman who had lit the first torch.
She held up her hand and the animals went still. I swallowed hard. With their practical clothing and bonded animals by their sides, they had to be Tamers.
Why hadn’t I been able to See them coming?
“Outsiders are not welcome here,” the Tamer woman said, her eyes flashing in the torchlight. She flicked her wrist and a knife appeared in her hand.
“I’m so sorry. My friend fell ill as we were passing through. We were going to leave as soon as possible, but he collapsed,” I said, deciding for now to omit the part where we’d been planning to spend the night in their forest to evade Valenko guardsmen.
My words had no effect on her steely gaze. She stepped closer, bringing the blade of her knife to my throat. I froze in fear. I could bleed a lot longer than a mortal before I died. Who knew what horrors I might write in desperation to escape that fate?
“Where are you from and what is your business in our lands?” the woman growled in my ear.
“I’m from the mountains near Amalska,” I squeaked, fearful that the slightest movement would break the skin beneath her blade.
“And your friend, too?” She tilted her head toward Hal, her knife still steady on my throat.
“I don’t know where he’s from,” I said, the words pouring out in a rush. “We only met today. Actually, we got in a bit of trouble in town. A Valenko guard got killed and the other guards thought we did it—”
“So you barely know him and you’ve been murdering people? Sounds like the start of a grand romance.” The woman smiled, her white teeth bright and sharp. Her owl stared at me, unblinking.
I bit my lip. Everything I said was only getting us deeper into trouble. I wanted to explain that Hal was trustworthy, that he had saved my life, but she was right. I didn’t know Hal. Not really. And citing our questionable escape from the guards as evidence of his trustworthiness probably wasn’t going to win me any favors after I had all but incriminated us already. The Tamers notoriously despised people with manifests for upsetting the natural order, but I didn’t know how they felt about those like me and Hal.
“Well, you’re certainly more interesting than the usual trash we turn up. Elder Mukira can decide what to do with you,” the huntress said.
Before I could respond, a pair of strong hands grabbed me. The woman removed her blade from my throat, and with a twist of her fingers, the knife vanished back to the unknown location from which it had come. The lean boy stepped forward, shoving a wad of dry cloth into my mouth and securing it with a strip of leather. His fox barked at his heels as though to encourage him. Panic made my knees weak. I tried to fight the people holding me, but the futility of that became immediately evident.
“Kaja, should we leave the boy?” a girl asked. Her dog sniffed around until he reached Hal’s feet, then sat and let out a low bark. She pulled a long dagger out of Hal’s boot and praised the dog.
I recoiled, causing the Tamer holding me to tighten his grip. How long had Hal been hiding that from me? A hunting knife was one thing, but that was a weapon. Had he been telling the truth when he said he wasn’t a Nightswift? Maybe I couldn’t trust him after all.
“Can’t risk him coming after her when he wakes up,” the leader said. “Samsha, Quari—you two carry the boy. I’ll send Firva ahead.” The owl launched from her shoulder and winged silently into the woods.
“Yes, Kaja,” the twins said. Their mice vanished into their hoods, and they snatched up Hal with remarkable strength for their size.
Another Tamer picked up my satchel, and the person holding me shoved me forward into the woods. I lumbered clumsily along while the others moved through the trees as silently as the fog, which slowly wound its way into the forest to smudge away the moon and stars.
I studied them as we walked, trying to figure out the secret to their invisibility in my Sight. Only after minutes of careful observation could I sense the subtle ways they wound the magic of the forest around themselves like camouflage. They made it look as natural as breathing.
In keeping with the Tamers’ subtlety, I had no idea we were upon their camp until the wind shifted to blow from the north, bringing with it the scent of roasting meat. One of the scouts ahead whistled the melancholy song of a night bird. In the distance, hidden voices echoed her, the message traveling from tree to tree.